DIANAS REVENGE - Number 4 Dante (Fast Blade) Bolonos

EXT: PEDRO’S DINER DAY A lonely run down building perched in the middle of the freight line railway district. The diner looks dirty, greasy and utterly filthy. INT: PEDRO’S DINER BACK KITCHEN AREA A small filthy kitchen strewn with empty boxes and overflowing food-scrap bins. Pots of water boil on gas burners, hot oil sizzles threateningly. A skilled hand wields a a large meat cleaver as it swings through the air and dices a slab of meat on a filthy chopping board. Diana moves like a prowling cat. Gun drawn and held at the ready in front of her, she takes deliberately controlled, slow steps. Steam wafts up around her face as she moves step by step into the forboding kitchen. The hand with the meat cleaver suddenly stops mid air, then lowers and places the cleaver quietly on the chopping board. A flurry of quick hand movements as a flick knife is produced and spun in the hand with the precision of an expert, and then the hand throws the knife through the clouds of billowing steam. Diana yelps with pain as the knife plunges into her wrist, her hand opens and the gun drops with a splash into a large pot of boiling water. She pulls the knife from her wrist and lets it drop to the floor, clutches her bleeding wrist. She peers through the billowing clouds of steam, the meat cleaver cartwheels out of the steam, straight at her face. She ducks just in time and the meat cleavers sticks in the wall behind her, wobbles with menace. Hands draw sharp kitchen knives from their blocks with the hiss of a sword being drawn from a scabbard. Diana is on full alert, she keeps low, looks around herself, perhaps she searches for a weapon. The whoosh sound of a blade as it cartwheels through the air, she ducks as it cuts through the steam and clangs noisily against pots hanging from a pillar. Dante Bolonos lunges from the steam, a large ultra sharp kitchen knife in each hand. Diana jumps backwards again and again as he thrusts at her with one knife, and slashes at her with the other. Diana backs into a bench, feels desperately behind her and grabs onto dinner plates. She throws the plates at Dante and his attack is hindered momentarily as the plates smash against his face, causes him to duck and weave, this gives Diana time to gain her balance and retreat. She continues to throw things at him as she backs away, what ever she can find, plates, pots, scrap buckets, anything. Diana looks about her. She finds the pot that she dropped the gun into. She tries to lift it in an attempt to pour the boiling water out and retrieve the gun. But has to abandon the gun retrieval attempt as Dante comes at her in a flurry of knife play. Desperately she grabs a cooking apron from a hook on the wall and drapes it over the attacker. They lock into a wrestle as Diana grabs both his wrists and tries to bang them against anything she can find to shake loose the knives from his grip. Dante pushes her backward, up against a deep fryer. He lets both his knives drop to the floor and grabs her around the throat, slowly and deliberately pushes her head backward into the sizzling vat of boiling oil. Diana’s hair tumbles into the boiling oils and strands of her hair crackle, and curl upward as they fry in the oil. Dante’s face shows the strain as he puts more effort into pushing her head backward into the oil. Diana strains to keep her head out of the boiling oil. The sizzle of the oil is deafening in her ears. DANTE BOLONOS I’m going to cook you bit by bit. BITCH. Cook you alive. He puts more of his weight on her. DANTE BOLONOS Cook you alive. And then I’m going to serve you up in the diner, with fries on the side. Diana release one of her hands from fending the attack, feels around for something, anything. She tilts her head to the side ever so slightly, notices a basket of fries in the deep fryer. She reaches for the hot metal handle, stretches to reach it as she strains to keep her head from being forced into the boiling oil. Her fingers dance along the piping hot handle of the metal basket and then, she grabs the handle and raises the basket, and pours the hot fries, still dripping with scolding oil, onto the back of the neck of Dante. Dante screams in pain as droplets of oil burn the back of his neck. He arches his body backward, releases his grip on Diana. Diana pushes him away, turns and grabs a ladle, quickly scoops up some boiling oil and throws it at his face. Dante screams and shields his eyes. Diana takes the opportunity, races back to the large pot of boiling water. This time she does not try to tip it over, instead she plunges her right hand into the boiling water, screams with pain, pulls the revolver out and dashes to a nearby sink, turns on the cold water and bathes her scolded hand, drops the gun into the sink. Suddenly Diana hears the swish of a large blade as it is drawn from a scabbard. She peers through the steam to see Dante, one hand holding his burnt face and blinded eye, the other swishing a massive, sharp blade. Urgently she grabs the revolver with her left hand and tries to push it into the grip of her badly scolded right hand. She unsteadily backs away as Dante draws dangerously closer. Suddenly she notices an open bucket of cooking lard near by and kicks it over, the contents spill across the floor. Dante stumbles forward and steps onto the lard. His legs are swept forward out from under him. He lands hard onto his back, accidently he throws the huge blade into the air above him. He watches helplessly with eyes bulged as the blade flings upward and then turns and plunges down toward him, blade first it plunges into his groin. Dante squeals like a stuck pig. He reaches for the blade embedded in his groin but misses the handle, instead his fingers curl around the blade and squeeze tight in an agonized attempt to withdraw the blade. Blood oozes from his cut fingers as they tightly grip the blade. Diana is unable to grip the revolver in her right hand, shifts it to her left and shakily takes aim at the writhing disfigured Dante. DIANA FLORES Kitchen’s closed Dante. She fires the gun. INT: PEDRO’S DINER FRONT DINING AREA AT THE SAME MOMENT A filthy but classic diner, with long bar and tall stools and coffee pot on stand by. There is only one customer, Agent Jim Smith. A full plate of what might be food remains untouched, pushed to one side from Smith. He brings what might be coffee up to his lips. The sound of the gun-shot comes at that exact moment. Smith is startled by the shot and spills the hot coffee. He brings the cup down with a crash onto the saucer, grabs a paper napkin and dabs at his gloating face. JIM SMITH Four! Smith throws down the napkin, gets up quickly, knocks the stool he was seated on over, and hurries out the door.